Who are you, who am I ?
by BuckyJames
Summary: Ironhawk AU. Tony and Clint are stuck in an alternative reality; dreams within dreams and its a race against time to escape, that's if they want to leave. Sometimes reality is just not worth it. Rating will change later on.
1. It's about the Money Honey

**AN: I wanted to say thank you to Taylor for being my Beta and reading over this, my first chapter is dedicated to her. Please note this story might have a slow start.**

* * *

The sun is perhaps the worst thing in the world, Tony thought to himself as he lay in the clean crisp bed trying to squeeze his eyes shut even tighter. The maid had been shuffling about and pulled the blinds open to wake him up, that was an hour ago and Tony still hadn't moved from his spot in the middle of the bed. It wasn't that he couldn't move he just didn't want to. In all honesty he would rather be in bed all day bored out of his mind than sit through some boring meeting about science and money and things he didn't care about. Okay no that was a lie, Tony cared about money.

Letting out a noise that was a cross between a sigh and a groan the young dark haired male pulled himself up letting out a huff. His room was large if you compared it to others; he had plenty of room to roll on the floor if he wanted to. It was still small though, compared to the rest of the house. That was Tony however, always getting the smallest portion of everything. Glancing to the clock on the table next to the bed Tony made a face, it was well past 1 in the afternoon and he could just hear his father yelling at him about how lazy he was, and he rolled his eyes every time. He was an 18 year old male that happened to be the son of a wealthy scientist and inventor, and it was a Sunday. Tony didn't really know what else to do but sleep. He briefly wondered what other people did on a Sunday but shook his head when he imagined their boring poor lives. Flipping the covers Tony slid out of bed and padded around the room in nothing, but his boxers. He was out of bed at least, so his father couldn't yell at him about sleeping his life away. Didn't the man know how many hours' people spent sleeping? He made a note to bring it up with his father the next time he decides to speak to him.

Their relationship was complicated to say the least. Tony was the only son of Howard Stark and as far as his father was concerned he would take over Stark Industries one day, Tony never had the heart to tell him otherwise. Though it had become obvious in later years that Tony was only really good at spending money and sleeping around, it was better than getting in his father's way. There were days however when he missed his mother. He would send her short text messages asking her how her day was and if she wanted to meet up. Her personal assistant would usually end up sending him a message back saying that his mother was very busy and that she loved him and that she was sorry. Sometimes Tony wished she had left before he could have memories of her.

However he was 18 now and soon he would have to pick between the dozens of colleges his father would pay for because 'every Stark goes to college' and being the only one to carry on the name meant extra pressure. The problem was that Tony was not particularly smart. Sure he got a few good grades, but he was no genius like his father. Tony's real passion, well he didn't really if he had one. There was a period when he was 12 when he thought that maybe cars would be a good passion and he actually had some real bonding time with his father, but he quickly discovered it was too much work and his father only smiled like he already knew. That's the thing though, Tony may hate his father and the way he bosses him around like he's another servant, but he does actually care. Tony just has to remind himself and Howard sometimes.

Like the time when he was 16 and he brought a girl home. Tony was proud to have such a beautiful girl on his arm. Tony was still in his awkward teenage stage at this point. However, Howard had quickly told him that the girl was up to no good and he would end up with a child before he was 20 and if that happened Howard would disown him. Two weeks later Howard had brought around a 'family friend' who just happened to bring around his daughter, Pepper.

They've been best friends ever since.

Walking to the bathroom that was joined to his room, Tony stood in front of the mirror with his hands placed firmly on the sink. There was a part of him wanted to get in the shower, wash away the smell of cheap girls and alcohol then go downstairs and actually act like a civil human for once. The other part wanted to crawl back in the bed and sleep the day away. He wasn't tired, really he wasn't it was just that it was a Sunday and the thought of going to school made him not only want to run and hide but feel sick. Tomorrow would be the anniversary of his parents' marriage and divorce. His father would be drinking more and he had no clue what his mother would be doing, but he suspected it was 20 years younger than her and didn't speak a word of English.

He used to be a happy child, he used to love his parents and he used to have dreams. Then his father began drinking and his mother wanted more money and before he knew it he was standing in the door way with a present in his arms watching as his mother threw various things at his father and his father cursed like he had never done before. To this day Tony still flinches when something flies near his head.

Without a second thought Tony tripped what little he had on and entered the large shower, scrubbing until he was too hot and too sore to move. He might not be looking forwards to tomorrow, but he had to act okay for his father. While Tony may not like him and sometimes despise him, Howard was his father after all and his greatest hero.


	2. A sad sad world

**AN: I hope you enjoy. Includes mild swearing, this chapter is darker. I have also made it easier to identify which reality characters are in by naming the chapters. I don't no Marvel. **

* * *

Something was not right. In fact, Clint suspected that something was horribly wrong. It was a feeling deep in his gut that worked its way up to his heart and then his throat and eventually he was crying though he had no idea why. There he was, a grown man in the middle of a grocery store silently crying. Clint felt disgusted and disappointed with himself, very disappointed.

Shifting from foot to foot he looked at the milk for a minute longer before turning and walking down the aisle, bringing one hand up to wipe across his eyes. The last thing he needed was people giving him looks. It was a miserable walk from the checkout to the street and then eventually to his apartment. He had tried to walk as slow as possible so that he didn't have to face the shit hole that is his home, but it didn't help. He still made it back in less than 30 minutes.

The building was rough, messy and just by looking at it you could guess what sort of people lived inside. There were single mothers that worked too many jobs at all the wrong places, old people that had a few run-ins with the law when they were younger leaving them all alone and foreigners that could and never would speak a word of English. Then you had the drug dealers and prostitutes and god knows what else. Clint really tried to avoid them all and just stay in his apartment. It was a crap apartment, but it was his.

Running his tongue over his teeth he studied the outside of the building for a few seconds longer before walking up the cracked pavement towards the stairs. In the summer time it would be filled with young kids trying to make the most out of the holidays, mothers yelling at them to get out the street, and sometimes there were parties. Summer was a happier time, but it didn't make up for the rest of the year. If there was a hell, Clint suspected that the building was some sort of portal to it. Inside was no better. There was a constant smell of something musty and damp. The lights flickered and if they didn't they were always too bright for Clint's liking, always grumping about something that closely resembled "fucking shit hole" but his words fell on deaf ears.

As soon as he was inside his apartment Clint made sure that all seven locks on the door where tightly shut so that if by chance someone did want to break in they would have one hell of a struggle. Without any real care or thought Clint placed the groceries away in its rightful place. Not even bothering to do anything else he flicked the lights off and walked to the bedroom where he fell onto the bed face first. He was tired, shattered really, the last time he had more than 5 hours sleep had been at least a week ago and since then he had been taking short naps so he didn't collapse in public like some idiot. The naps didn't really help though he could still see the nightmares every time he closed his eyes. It wasn't just the nightmares though. It was the people inside of it. He never saw their faces, but he took special note of other things, long red hair that made him tense up and want to run but in a good way. Something large and green that frankly scared the shit out of him. Then there was the American flag only it was wrapped around someone like a suit, a man in armor but the color was dulled. There were other things as well. A circus that for a brief moment made him feel at home, a boy that was older than him and somewhat resembled him in looks, something long and thin flying through the air.

It didn't matter though, by the time Clint's mind tried to identify it all he was already awake and forgetting. They were always there, on the tip of his tongue and at the back of his mind every time he closed his eyes Clint felt better and happier. Until he awoke and felt that feeling like he did before, something was horribly wrong and he didn't know how to fix it or where to start.

He hadn't always been like this, so depressed and utterly alone. He had been a happy child with friends and a dog whose name he had forgotten. He could remember the way his mother smelled like flowers and the steaks his father cooked, his father was a better cook than his mother and everyone knew it. Then something happened, an event his mind tried to forget, and suddenly he was sleeping in a different bed waking up screaming. Then he was running, running so hard he gasped for air and threw up. All he did was run and run and run until one day he had enough. He got shitty jobs that paid the minimum wage and no one asked for his real name. He lived in a crappy apartment building that smelled like vomit and looked like something out of a really bad horror movie. The water was always cold and there was always something crawling in the walls.

Clint used to be happy, he used to have a family and a brother and he was surrounded by love.

So what went so horribly wrong that left him lying face down on a second hand bed crying because everything was wrong and there was nothing he could do to fix it?

What had made Clint forget?

Or rather who, who had turned the happy little boy into such a sad old man.


End file.
